The In-Gathering Cimon and Pero: A Chain of Sonnets: Sebastopol etc. By John A. Heraud |
 |
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. | III. |
| IV. |
 | The In-Gathering |  |
III.
The Mass is said, the rite well o'er,
The shriven Brides are light of heart;
Religion and Love were twins of yore,
And never since have been known to part.
Yes, light of heart each merry bride;
Devotion her thoughts had purified,
And tranquilly as befits the good,
She mused on her lover in that blest mood,
Indulged by Faith, when with Hope sustained,
And inspired with Love, by trial unpained,
That virgin love, which, yet an ideal,
Has suffered no contact with the real.
O maiden Brides; half sad your smile,
Half playful by fits, as the shrine each quits,
To wander awhile, 'midst the temple aisle;
Then issues again, unbanded and free,
And looks once more on the treacherous sea.
The shriven Brides are light of heart;
Religion and Love were twins of yore,
And never since have been known to part.
Yes, light of heart each merry bride;
Devotion her thoughts had purified,
179
She mused on her lover in that blest mood,
Indulged by Faith, when with Hope sustained,
And inspired with Love, by trial unpained,
That virgin love, which, yet an ideal,
Has suffered no contact with the real.
O maiden Brides; half sad your smile,
Half playful by fits, as the shrine each quits,
To wander awhile, 'midst the temple aisle;
Then issues again, unbanded and free,
And looks once more on the treacherous sea.
What murmur was that, as of hornets humming?
Ah! 'tis not the sound of your Bridegrooms' coming.
Yon vessel lies on the water's edge—
But to Hate, not to Love, a votive pledge.
Right-suddenly redeemed 'twill be.
Ah, flee—ye bridal maidens—flee!
A Sabine rape awaits your charms!
Even now each is clasped in a pirate's arms!
'Twas the work of a moment. A tremor of wonder,
The virgins are borne with the might of the thunder,
Down the steps that lead from that Portico,
To a Boat by the sea-brink waiting below.
Almost or ever the victim may shriek,
Or the pallor of fear overspread her cheek,
She is hurried aboard, and disposed on the deck.
Vain the crown on her brow, or the gaud on her neck.
The greater is the renegade's pride,
Who thus hath won patrician bride.
But patrician or pleb it is much the same,
Each corsair has clasped a Venetian dame,
In galliot and galley soon well bestowed.
The barks skim along on their watery road,
With sail and with pennon triumphantly swelling,
While the wail of the brides to the sea-wind is telling
The tale of despair, the wild farewell
To father, and brother, and lover and friend,
That over the waters still rose and fell.
What madness and hope in its cadence blend!
But faint and more faint now it comes on the gale—
That chorus of terror—that desolate wail!
Ah! 'tis not the sound of your Bridegrooms' coming.
Yon vessel lies on the water's edge—
But to Hate, not to Love, a votive pledge.
Right-suddenly redeemed 'twill be.
Ah, flee—ye bridal maidens—flee!
A Sabine rape awaits your charms!
Even now each is clasped in a pirate's arms!
'Twas the work of a moment. A tremor of wonder,
The virgins are borne with the might of the thunder,
Down the steps that lead from that Portico,
To a Boat by the sea-brink waiting below.
Almost or ever the victim may shriek,
Or the pallor of fear overspread her cheek,
She is hurried aboard, and disposed on the deck.
Vain the crown on her brow, or the gaud on her neck.
The greater is the renegade's pride,
Who thus hath won patrician bride.
But patrician or pleb it is much the same,
Each corsair has clasped a Venetian dame,
180
The barks skim along on their watery road,
With sail and with pennon triumphantly swelling,
While the wail of the brides to the sea-wind is telling
The tale of despair, the wild farewell
To father, and brother, and lover and friend,
That over the waters still rose and fell.
What madness and hope in its cadence blend!
But faint and more faint now it comes on the gale—
That chorus of terror—that desolate wail!
But that wail has entered Pity's ear.
Crowds on the Temple's steps have gathered:
Priests, and statesmen, assemble there,
With him by whom the State is fathered.
True as to time the horologe,
To Venice her first Citizen,
Canadian's self, the mighty Doge;
One hurried glance he gave, and then
Conferred at once with a Council of Ten.
Commands are given, and to and fro
On errands strange his missives go.
In thy tower, St. Mark, lo, the lion-bell swings;
The tocsin of peril aloud out-rings,
And the citadel isles, afar and anear,
Respond anon, as the sound they hear,
That awful alarum to courage and fear.
Crowds on the Temple's steps have gathered:
Priests, and statesmen, assemble there,
With him by whom the State is fathered.
True as to time the horologe,
To Venice her first Citizen,
Canadian's self, the mighty Doge;
One hurried glance he gave, and then
Conferred at once with a Council of Ten.
Commands are given, and to and fro
On errands strange his missives go.
In thy tower, St. Mark, lo, the lion-bell swings;
The tocsin of peril aloud out-rings,
And the citadel isles, afar and anear,
Respond anon, as the sound they hear,
That awful alarum to courage and fear.
The Bridegrooms have heard, and faster row,
To reach the isle, Olivolo.
Their hearts are with their treasures there;
An instant, their boats to inland bear.
Them saw the Doge from the shore; nor stirred,
Till into the first himself he threw;
And “follow! follow!” was the word,
That from his lips like lightning flew.
To reach the isle, Olivolo.
Their hearts are with their treasures there;
An instant, their boats to inland bear.
181
Till into the first himself he threw;
And “follow! follow!” was the word,
That from his lips like lightning flew.
Then shouted Andrea: “Tell me, say—
Pia, my bride! have they borne her away?”
“All—all; none is left; all are gone!”—they replied—
“O, shame to our manhood!” then Andrea cried,
“O, shame to our Venice! if this may be,
That thus the savage enslave the free!
O, craftsmen—now show ye have hearts in your breasts,
Or aye vail your bonnets to nobler crests—
Win back your brides, or bravely fall!
Give us arms!” They are given. “Now follow me, all!”
Pia, my bride! have they borne her away?”
“All—all; none is left; all are gone!”—they replied—
“O, shame to our manhood!” then Andrea cried,
“O, shame to our Venice! if this may be,
That thus the savage enslave the free!
O, craftsmen—now show ye have hearts in your breasts,
Or aye vail your bonnets to nobler crests—
Win back your brides, or bravely fall!
Give us arms!” They are given. “Now follow me, all!”
From man to man the spell-word ran;
It was thus the pirate chase began.
It was thus the pirate chase began.
| The In-Gathering | |